


Architects Of Their Own Fate

by toesohnoes



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-14
Updated: 2007-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It isn't supposed to be this way."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Architects Of Their Own Fate

It isn't supposed to be this way.

That seems like a statement so obvious it doesn't bear thinking about: like the sky is blue, water is wet, fate is cruel, winter is cold and death is inevitable.

It isn't supposed to be this way – but it is.

Mohinder doesn't allow guilt to invade as he pulls the trigger and the world goes blank.

*

Four months ago, he was standing on Kirby Plaza, watching the Petrelli brothers take off into the sky like a suicidal fireworks display. There was Molly and there was Matt and there was a rush of red all around him: blood and Peter's shining hands and then the twirling, violent accusatory blur of the ambulance lights.

He barely noticed Bennet with his poor young daughter, too occupied with his recent acquisition of a child of his own – Molly held his hand and begged him to tell her that Matt would be fine. He didn't feel like a father yet, not by a mile, but he cast himself into the role and let her believe that the world was a fairy tale.

It was only later that they met again in the hospital room. It was only later that Bennet appeared and murmured delusional plans and missions: a fairy tale of their very own.

*

The gun smokes and his nose aches and his lungs burn with the knowledge of what he's just done.

_For the greater good_ , he tells himself but the words are hollow. He just wants to do what's right.

Right and wrong and black and white are relative concepts it seems, but Bennet's blood and Bennet's cry and Bennet collapsing to the floor-

There's no relative world in which this is right.

*

Three months ago, his life turned upside down. He had a child, he had a two-faced job, he had a-

Well, he had a Matt. And he had a Bennet. Neither of which were figures he'd ever had anything resembling in his life, but it worked and they bumbled along together. The sound of Bennet's voice could bring a smile to his face with a few choice words burned into his mind.

Meeting up was too dangerous so they ended up with a long phone line between them; it felt so far that Mohinder thought he might as well have been in India again. "Patience, Suresh," Bennet said, warmth shining through his voice for him. "They're being cautious – you trust me, don't you?"

Mohinder didn't want to trust anyone, not after the disaster with Zane, but his mind made up the decision without him. "Of course," he answered, meaning each word.

*

"Noah?" he calls as blood blossoms and he falls to his knees beside the shattered, broken body of the man he's betrayed – the man he's _killed_.

His hands shake because there's no recognition in Bennet's eyes, no life at all. They stare like scuffed pennies from behind the man's glasses: Mohinder's seen this before, he knows as he squeezes the man's hand and waits for any response in return – but there's nothing.

A painting come to life.

A prophecy fulfilled.

*

Two weeks ago, they were celebrating.

His arm was hooked around Bennet's neck and he was laughing at the sensation of close-shaven stubble brushing over his skin. Mohinder doesn't remember now what was so funny – it hardly matters – but he was happy. They both were.

Happy and bright and foolish and completely unknowing of what lay ahead.

Bennet's teeth nipped at the skin above his navel, sharp enough to make him startle in alarm before he settled back against the bed, relaxed once more under Bennet's attentive hands.

Two weeks and a lifetime ago, the world was different.

*

"Mohinder, come on," Niki says as she tugs at his shoulder with supernatural strength. "We have to get out of here."

They have to run, he knows that. Some small part of him recognises that but he can't stop staring at the aftermath of what he's done. Bennet's glasses are smashed and flecks of blood have jumped onto the shards of glass within the mangled frames.

"I—" Mohinder shakes his head, unable to take this in.

"Come _on_." Niki uses the strength of gods to yank him to his feet and pull him towards their car. They have to keep moving, have to keep the past behind them.

As Niki slips behind the wheel, with the barest smudge of blood on her pale hands, they leave a body in the dust. Mohinder's world – Mohinder's morals – are finally dyed irreparably grey. The world feels like it's ending and churns around him unhappily as the reality sinks in.

Bennet is dead – and Mohinder is certain that means the rest of them will follow.


End file.
